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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340248">Aesthetic</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff'>danpuff</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Enemies to Lovers to Friends, Exhibitionism, Friends With Benefits, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Jealousy, Love, M/M, Matchmaking, Sneaky Slytherin Plots, Voyeurism, boys in panties</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:54:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,449</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25340248</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/danpuff/pseuds/danpuff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco was born to bask in beauty.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Severus Snape</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>106</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Aesthetic</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I don’t know about this, Draco.”</p><p>Harry Potter is absurdly adorable with his frown, and the wrinkle between his eyes. Bright green dart warily to their guest, then focus resolutely on Draco. </p><p>Obnoxiously handsome for a half-blood and a Gryffindor, for such a <i>do-gooder</i>. Draco was raised with style and poise, and most importantly an appreciation of aesthetics. Harry lacks style, his clothes normally so baggy and plain. Harry lacks poise, with unrefined speech and such casual posture. What Harry does have is beauty for Draco to admire. It may be because of, or in spite of, the wild hair and the jagged scar. It is certainly that jawline Draco likes to trace with his tongue. The shapely pink lips he likes to taste. </p><p>He has always been a sight to behold, even before they tumbled into this arrangement. And Draco wants to see more of him now. </p><p>“Draco.” The tone is exasperated. Green eyes are unmoving on his face and his body is stiff. Active effort to not look at the other man. </p><p>It’s cute, really. Almost cute enough to distract Draco from the embarrassment of <i>ogling</i>. It is unbecoming, but Draco decides to look while he can. If his plan succeeds, he won’t have this ever again. </p><p>“Hush, I’m <i>looking</i>,” Draco fusses and moves his finger in a circle. “Spin for me.”</p><p>Harry scowls at him. “I could just leave.”</p><p>Draco sighs dramatically. “The whole point is putting on a show, isn’t it?” Green eyes nervously flit to their guest again. “Don’t tell me I did all of that begging for naught.” Green eyes fall to the floor, cheeks pinking. Draco grins over his shoulder, but Severus is not looking at him. The man is seated regally in a plush, cream colored armchair, posture less stiff than upon arrival. One finger traces his mouth, dark eyes trained on Harry, who shuffles his feet. “Come, Harry. We want to look at you.” </p><p>Harry turns even redder and mutters under his breath, but obediently (if awkwardly) turns in a circle. Draco had dressed him for the evening in form fitting robes of wine red. Easier in these to see his build, slender but strong. If only he was more comfortable in such finery. Draco reaches out irresistibly to stroke the velvet-covered back and delights in Harry’s shiver. </p><p>“Isn’t he something, Severus?”</p><p>“Indeed.” </p><p>Black eyes and green meet, sparks striking. Such a pity Draco had to debase himself so, pleading with them both for something <i>they</i> want. He is going to hold this over their heads for the rest of their lives. </p><p>Bitter envy stings his gut, so he reaches out to cup Harry’s cheek, drawing him close. Breathes softly, teasingly at his lips until Harry closes the distance to kiss him fervently. This is better, isn’t it? Remembering that Harry desires him. </p><p>Better still that Harry’s hands move first to tug at his forest green robes. Draco bites back complaints regarding the careless treatment of his attire. He lets the soft fabric fall from his body, then sets about disrobing Harry. Difficult to do when Harry’s hands are roaming, groping at Draco’s bared back and legs. Caressing his silk-covered buttocks. </p><p>It is Draco who pauses them with hand on chest, pushing him away to get a look. Harry licks and bites at his lips, eyes falling to soak in the sight of him. Draco’s eyes move to the mirrors - the many mirrors around the room reflecting every angle of them. </p><p>They are a vision. Draco’s flushed chest and neck and face - the white blond hair and silver gray eyes - the stretches of fair unblemished skin, disrupted only by a pair of silver silk knickers. His slender fingers lay on Harry’s firm chest - sun-kissed skin marred by the occasional scar - thighs and arms bearing traces of muscle - sparse black hair from his navel down - down to gold silk. </p><p>Draco trails his hand downward, over warm skin, through soft hair, down over smooth silk to cup growing arousal. Arousal for Draco’s radiance, Draco’s touch, Draco is sure. Harry tugs him closer to kiss him again. Harry’s insistent hands press him to the bed. Harry’s insatiability is always intoxicating, and Draco is happy to let it wash over him. Happy to let Harry crawl over top him, mouthing at his neck. Pleased, really, to sigh and shiver for him. He does these things as he glances at Severus. </p><p>If there was a wiggle of envy within Draco, it is nothing to the blazing of Severus’s eyes - fury and lust battling and blending. It is more than Draco can bear, so he turns to the mirror behind the man. Watches and feels Harry’s hands gliding along his body. Watches and feels Harry rut against his thigh. Watches himself bite his own lip as Harry palms between his legs. </p><p>He is beautiful, he knows. He likes the delicacy of his own features. He likes his soft coloring. He likes his slim body. So, too, does he like Harry’s solid, earthy beauty. He is rough gemstones to Draco’s cut diamonds. And together, they are extraordinary. Supple limbs entwined. Golden skin against porcelain. Black hair and white. Emerald and silver. </p><p>Harry desires him, of course he does. What galls is that he also desires Severus. Desires him more. </p><p>Draco cannot help but look at their former professor again. Many call him ugly, and almost Draco can see traces of it. The harsh lines of his face, the too thin lips and too large nose, the lanky hair and sallow skin. Only now - through Harry’s eyes - he sees these as striking, rather than hideous. The capable hands, the slow richness of his voice, the commanding presence. And the eyes - the dark eyes, and all of the heat and immensity behind them. </p><p>Severus is twenty years their senior. He is called ugly and mean. He is reviled by many; certainly all of Harry’s friends. Yet Harry wants him. Craves him. </p><p>But it is Draco’s pink nipple Harry nips, and Severus is alone in his chair. </p><p>Spiteful pleasure at this thought, but Draco is trying very hard to be <i>selfless</i> and <i>kind</i> so he calls, “Severus, there’s plenty of room here.” Harry stills above him, so Draco trails soothing fingers up his spine. “A better view, too.” Nothing but silence and stillness. Harry swallows. Severus is staring at him, suspicious. “Get comfortable. We’re here to have fun, remember?” </p><p>“Draco,” Harry whispers. There is a twinge of fear in the tone, so Draco leans up to kiss him. Kisses him softly and rolls them onto their sides. He hears the rustle of cloth. Opens his eyes to a mirror as Severus removes boots and outer robe. Finds Harry’s green eyes following the man. Draco feels the twitch of the cock against his belly. Hears the catch of breath. Only Severus in his plain black trousers and black button-up, but to Harry this is special.</p><p>Draco kisses at Harry’s neck, eyes still glued to the mirror as Severus glides over to them. Black and green meet again. Maintain contact as there is a dip on the bed. The gaze is more than Harry can take, for he ducks down to nuzzle into Draco’s hair. Severus settles cautiously at a corner of the mattress, reclining back against the bedpost. </p><p>“How do we look, Severus?” Draco asks, tugging at Harry’s earlobe with his teeth. </p><p>“Surely your vanity does not need further stroking.” </p><p>“I’m a glutton.” A glutton for compliments. A glutton for Harry’s mouth, which he kisses slowly, savoring the taste. </p><p>Draco wants to be told he is beautiful. Wants to be told how arousing he is, how arousing they are together. Wants, just as badly, for Harry to hear how gorgeous he is - right from that velvety voice he is so entranced by. </p><p>“Tell him, Harry,” Draco whispers between kisses.</p><p>“What? No.” </p><p>“Tell me what?”</p><p>“We’re living out our fantasies here.” Draco aligns their silk-covered cocks and thrusts against him encouragingly. “Tell him.”</p><p>Harry is bright red, stammering, “I - we, that is - we - your voice -” He clears his throat and mutters a curse, then clears his throat. “It’s - can you talk to us? Please?” </p><p>Draco does not need to see Severus to feel the weight of his consideration. While they wait, Draco glides his hands over Harry’s firm arse and wiggles closer. He can feel the weight and heat of Harry’s hardness against his. Draco wants to feel it bare against him, but this is foreign and luxurious - soft, thin knickers hugging him, hugging Harry. Silk to silk. Silver to gold. </p><p>“You like the sound of my voice?” The tone is amused, but there is surprise beneath it, and interest. “Or are you as vain as Draco, dear Harry?” </p><p>“Oh God,” Harry whispers, trembles in Draco’s arms. Draco himself feels that voice tickling down his spine. </p><p>“Hmm.” Severus is tapping his lips. “Shall I tell you how lovely you are, the both of you? All of the vibrancy and beauty of youth - pretty <i>boys</i> reveling in the lustful gazes of perverted <i>men</i>.” </p><p>One of Harry’s hands presses between his shoulder blades, the other low on his back. His hips thrust against Draco with more urgency than grace. It is Draco’s hands that grasp, and guide, into fluid motion. A dance to the song of Severus’s words. </p><p>“I must have been mad, allowing myself to be lured here. To watch two little sluts paw inexpertly at one another.” Draco wants to argue his lack of expertise, as they’ve been fooling around since last year, thank you very much. But Severus continues, and Draco is loathe to stop him. “Greedy boys chasing pleasure wherever they can find it. Are you drunk on it, that heady arousal? The sureness of your beauty and power?” Dirty talk has always had its appeal, but Draco had never known a voice alone could pull the strings of his passion so skillfully. Draco kisses Harry deeply, fingers digging into hips. Harry is clutching at him, too, groaning into his mouth. “Or is it your vanity? Did you enjoy the attention tonight? Aristocrats watching your every move. Undressing you with their <i>eyes</i>.” A low chuckle and the kiss breaks as Draco gasps. “Perhaps the silk between you, then? How does it feel?”</p><p>“Really - good,” Draco manages to moan. He wishes he had the presence of mind to reply in kind, to feed on the energy, but he is staving off his impending orgasm as best he can. Is too lost in a haze of pleasure - that voice stoking the fire within, Harry’s skin against his. Harry’s mouth on his neck - wet tongue, scrape of teeth. </p><p>“Do you like that I chose them for you? Bought them for you? Asked you to wear them?” Severus asks. Draco buries his face in Harry’s neck to stifle the sound as he stiffens, releasing into silken embrace.“That a dirty old man asked you to wear them, and you obeyed? Like the good little boys you are.” </p><p>Harry is thrusting against Draco’s stomach, breath coming faster, and Draco grasps his hips to still him as he pulls away. “Touch him,” Draco gasps. “Severus.” </p><p>Harry scrabbles at Draco’s arms in panic. “Please,” he begs. No one, least of all Harry, is sure if he means Draco to touch him, or Severus. Only that someone must. </p><p>Severus, to his credit, hesitates. But he wants Harry too much to deny himself this. Draco holds Harry in place as he squirms, urgent for release. Severus crawls across the bed to settle behind him. One arm slides beneath him, hand on his chest. The other hand trails up his thigh. Ghosts over the wet knickers. Harry lets out a high-pitched whine as fingers trace his belly, just above the gold waistband. Draco looks between them, watches pale fingers slide beneath the fabric. Severus takes Harry firmly in hand. Instantly Harry’s body jerks, movement impeded by Severus’s arms as he cries out. Harry turns his face into the mattress to catch his breath. Draco reaches out to rub his trembling arms, watching Severus watch Harry. The conflict in his eyes. The concern, the yearning, the frustration. Watches thin lips press tentatively against Harry’s shoulder. At that, Draco lets his hand fall away. </p><p>Harry hums quietly, body molding back easily into the older man. He fits there, against Severus. A missing piece locking into place. Draco’s fingers twitch against the sheets. They long to reach out for Harry, to pull him away, back to him. Instead he is quiet. Observing the shift of hips. Listening to the intake of breath. Tightening of fingers. Harry’s nervous, “Can I?” </p><p>Draco props himself up on an elbow as Harry turns to face Severus. Fingers fumble with the belt. Only the mirrored ceiling gives Draco view of the thick, red cock protruding from black trousers. It’s a shame they’ve never engaged in penetrative sex. Harry’s going to need plenty practice to be able to take him.</p><p>Harry’s fingers still quiver as they stroke through black curls. Difficult to see Harry’s expression even in the mirror. His face is turned downward, eyes on his own movements as he palms the heavy bollocks, knuckles trailing up the length, thumb smearing pre-come around the head. </p><p>Impossible to see Severus’s expression, as well, with his eyes closed, face buried in the unruly mane. Only when Harry begins to stroke him does he murmur a spell to provide lubrication. The back of Harry’s neck heats in embarrassment for having forgotten. Severus does not chide him, and Harry does not apologize. The air is thick with their uncertainty - with their fear, and their want - with the bated breath of two men so close to all they never thought they could have, and unsure it is theirs for the taking. </p><p>When Severus comes, he is quiet. He holds his breath against any noise, body stilling as his seed paints Harry’s stomach and chest. Harry keeps stroking until he’s wrung him dry, and only then does he look up. Uncertainty between them as gazes lock. Hesitation in the way Severus strokes his cheek. A question in Harry’s soft kiss, answered by tongue and lips and teeth. They press closer, kissing hungrily despite being so recently sated. </p><p>There is an ache in Draco’s chest upon seeing it. Aching with his bruised vanity. Aching with the longing to be so treasured by another. Aching with hope and happiness for two people he cares for. </p><p>Draco would like to complain, or joke, or in some way draw attention back to himself. Instead, Draco rolls onto his his back, eyes on the mirror. For there is beauty to them. </p><p>And Draco was born to bask in beauty.</p>
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